Season of Fear

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Season of Fear Page 38

by Brain Freeman


  Caprice slapped his face. Hard. Cab touched his cheek, which bore the crimson mark of her hand. He laughed. ‘Are those nails or claws? “Tyger! Tyger! burning bright / In the forest of the night / What immortal hand or eye / Could frame thy fearful symmetry?” Peach reminded me about that poem. I couldn’t help but think of you.’

  ‘Shut up.’

  Cab smiled at her, completely unaffected. His calm drove her crazy. He reached inside his pocket and slid out a photograph. ‘See this picture? I got it from an electrician in Ocala. He’s a reformed member of the Liberty Empire Alliance. A true believer who ran out of anger. It’s a picture he took outside an Alliance meeting in the spring ten years ago. They don’t like pictures, but he was actually shooting a photo of where his car was parked because he was pissed that he got a ticket. Turns out he got a few of the Alliance members in the background of the photo. Anyone look familiar?’

  She didn’t look at the picture. ‘No.’

  ‘The kid with the red hair? Definitely Deacon Piper.’

  Caprice shrugged. ‘Good for you, Cab. You’ve discovered concrete evidence that Deacon had Alliance sympathies. That explains a lot. He killed Birch for the Alliance, and he killed Lyle for his own reasons. Ham Brock got him to do the same thing to Diane. Probably with Ramona’s encouragement.’

  ‘And once again, things work out perfectly for you.’

  ‘I don’t like your tone, Cab.’

  ‘No? The thing is, I went to see Ham Brock again last week. I showed him the picture. He thinks Deacon was the mole inside the Alliance back then. And that made me think about you telling me how you always liked to have your own person on the inside, reporting to you. Did you use Deacon to spy on the Alliance? Were you already thinking the Alliance might be useful to take the fall if things went bad with Birch?’

  Her first instinct was to give in to her agitation, but she held herself back. She knew he was baiting her. She wasn’t going to let him win. Instead, she eased back on the bench without a care in the world. ‘Ham Brock,’ she said. ‘You consider him a reliable witness, do you?’

  ‘In this case, I do. Did Lyle know you were using his brother as a spy?’

  ‘Of course not, because it’s not true.’

  ‘Just to satisfy my morbid curiosity, how far did the relationship with Deacon go? Did you sleep with him?’

  Her head snapped around. ‘You’re on dangerous ground, Cab.’

  ‘I just wondered if Deacon was in love with you. It seems like he was ready to do anything for you. He killed Birch. He almost killed Diane. He even made sure you wouldn’t get blamed if he got caught. That’s chivalry. Deacon meeting with Ham Brock a few months ago – that was a nice touch. Brock said Deacon spent half an hour bragging about everything that Diane was going to do against supremacist groups when she was elected. Were you hoping that Brock would put out the word? More rumors about the Alliance when Diane was killed? Of course, it didn’t really matter what Deacon said to Brock. If Deacon got caught, the meeting alone would make people assume the Alliance was involved.’

  Caprice said nothing at all.

  ‘Not that Deacon planned to get caught,’ Cab said. ‘He intended to frame Frank Macy. But what was your plan, Caprice? Did you plan to kill Deacon all along?’

  ‘Ashes to ashes,’ Caprice said in the doorway of the garage.

  Deacon had the gun in his hand and pointed it at her with a swift seamless whip of his arm. Instinct. She didn’t flinch. Instead, she stood there, rain-soaked and wanton, her clothes like film on her body. The tiniest of smiles creased her face. Strange how she could smile knowing what was about to happen, but then, how could you not smile when you will soon have what you have always craved?

  She came to him, dripping. ‘Are you scared?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘It will all be over soon.’

  ‘I know.’

  Her fingers stroked the barrel of the gun, which was hard and long. She felt his excitement.

  ‘I want to see the body,’ she said.

  He took her hand and led her to the car. He popped the trunk, and when she saw the dead eyes of Frank Macy staring at her, she quivered. It wasn’t fear; it was arousal. She put a finger to the wound and let one of the corpse bugs climb onto her nail. She twisted her hand, making it run in circles around her finger, and when she was done playing with it, she crushed it under her thumb and dropped the carapace back among its brothers.

  ‘Do you think this will work?’ he asked.

  ‘Trust me,’ she said.

  ‘There’s a chance – I mean, it’s possible that I won’t make it. I’ve protected you if that happens. You know that, don’t you?’

  ‘I do. Thank you.’

  That was the limit of her emotion. She’d always known his place in her universe. He was a useful tool to her, but if he died, if he was exposed, she would walk over him like litter in the street.

  ‘There are days …’ he began, but he couldn’t finish his thought. He couldn’t go there.

  ‘We all make sacrifices,’ she said.

  She heard him try and fail to keep the bitterness from his voice. ‘And what’s yours?’ he asked.

  She put her hands on his face. He responded like that blind, dead insect, unable to stay away from her, despite the consequences of what lay ahead.

  ‘Mine is living with who I am,’ she said.

  ‘You said you never fired a gun before,’ Cab reminded her. ‘Isn’t that what you told Deacon in the sunroom? All those shots went wild. Except for the last one, which killed him. Dead in the center of the back. Perfect aim.’

  ‘Luck,’ Caprice said.

  ‘Yes, you are a very lucky woman. Except I found a shooting range not far from where you grew up. They still remember you. The pretty teenage girl who was as sharp as a sniper. They’re proud of you, by the way.’

  ‘I hadn’t fired a gun in years,’ Caprice said. ‘And I don’t think I’m under any obligation to tell the truth to a murderer who’s threatening to kill me.’

  ‘That’s true,’ Cab said. ‘You know, I really have only one question for you. There’s one thing I’m not sure about. The whole plot with Diane, that was you all along. That’s why you hired me, isn’t it? To point me down the path, to give the whole thing credibility. You used me from the start. I don’t like being used, but I admit, you’re good at it. As for the Labor Day murders, I wondered whether it was your idea or Deacon’s, but come on. Deacon was a kid. You were the brains. Killing Birch and setting up the Alliance? Political brilliance. No, the only question I have is about Lyle. Did you know Deacon was going to kill him, too, or did he surprise you? I’d like to think you didn’t know that was coming. I’d like to think you weren’t acting your horror when he put the gun in Lyle’s face and killed your fiancé. Sadly, though, I don’t believe it. You told Deacon exactly what to do. Everything.’

  Caprice took a breath in and a breath out. ‘What a fascinating fairy tale.’

  ‘Isn’t it?’

  ‘These are extraordinarily serious allegations to level against a woman with my power,’ she said. ‘You do realize that.’

  ‘Yes, I do. And you do have power. That’s what you always wanted, isn’t it? I talked to your friends in college. They have exceptional admiration for you. They’d never met anyone so ambitious and so single-mindedly focused on achieving what she wanted. They all considered it to be one of your virtues.’

  ‘I hope you don’t plan to go public with these crazy ideas, Cab,’ Caprice advised him. ‘As far as I can tell, you don’t have a shred of real evidence of my doing anything wrong, least of all the terrible things you’ve talked about. Not that you could, because none of it is true.’

  ‘I’m not wearing a wire,’ Cab said.

  ‘In my business, everything is on the record.’

  ‘Of course.’

  ‘You really don’t want me as an enemy, Cab. Trust me on that.’

  ‘I think it’s a little late for that,’ he said.
<
br />   ‘Yes, I think you’re right.’

  ‘Anyway, no, I have no plans to go public with any of this,’ he told her. ‘Not yet. I’ve been looking into it for months, but I can’t find any useful evidence at all to prove anything. Even though I know you’re guilty as hell.’

  ‘Why are you so sure?’ she asked.

  ‘Honestly? Because my girlfriend really, really doesn’t like you. I trust her judgment, but I suppose a prosecutor and jury would want something more. Which I don’t have. So you win, Caprice. For now.’

  ‘I usually do.’

  ‘However, I’ll be keeping an eye on you.’

  ‘I bet you will.’ Caprice saw an aide gesturing at her from near the beautiful tower. The music of the bells had gone silent. It was time to go. She stood up, and so did Cab, and the two of them shook hands. The security personnel who had hovered at a distance drew closer.

  ‘Don’t be a stranger,’ she said to him. ‘Goodbye, Cab.’

  ‘Goodbye, Governor,’ Cab replied.

  AUTHOR’S NOTE

  Cab Bolton first appeared as a character in my novel The Bone House. I planned the book as a stand-alone, but readers soon demanded to see more of that tall, rich detective. I hope you enjoyed his return. With this book, I now have two parallel series, one featuring Cab and one featuring Lieutenant Jonathan Stride of the Duluth Police. You can also look for my stand-alone Spilled Blood, which won the award for Best Hardcover Novel in the 2013 Thriller Awards.

  You can write to me at [email protected]. I enjoy e-mails from readers and always respond personally. Visit my website at www.bfreemanbooks.com to join my e-mail list, get book club discussion questions, read bonus content, learn about meet-and-greet events in your area, and find out more about me and all of my books. You can also ‘like’ my official fan page on Facebook at www.facebook.com/bfreemanfans or follow me on Twitter, Instagram, or Tumblr using the handle bfreemanbooks.

  I’d also like to ask a favor. I’d be grateful if you could do online reviews and post or tweet to your friends when you enjoy my books. That’s a big help … thanks!

  I lost a dear friend in the publishing industry as we were putting the finishing touches on Season of Fear. My agent Ali Gunn discovered me in 2004 with the manuscript of my first novel, Immoral. She was my agent, ally, friend, and supporter for all of the past decade. Ali passed away tragically and unexpectedly this winter, leaving a terrible hole for everyone who knew her. This book, like my other books, is in your hands because of Ali. I will always be grateful to her for shaping my career.

  I’m fortunate to work with an amazing team in the publishing industry, especially everyone at my worldwide publisher Quercus. My thanks to David North, Rich Arcus, Nathaniel Marunas, Eric Price, Richard Green, and the entire Quercus team on both sides of the Atlantic.

  This is my first book since Stripped to be set outside the Midwest. I’m very grateful to Mary and Roger Stumo, who allowed me and Marcia to use their condo in Indian Rocks Beach while we were doing research and scouting locations for the book. Most of the locales in this novel are real places, which you can find on Google Earth.

  I have some wonderful readers who help me with feedback on early drafts of my manuscripts. They play an important role in shaping the final book. So big thanks to Marcia, Matt and Paula Davis, Terri Duecker, Mike O’Neill, and Alton Koren. Our three cats Heathrow, Gatwick, and Baltic also contribute to each book, but their ‘help’ typically consists of sleeping on my keyboard and in my chair.

  Speaking of Marcia … you will see her on the first page of every book, and after thirty years of marriage, she’s the most important person in everything I do. So if you enjoy my books, the thanks go to her as much as me.

 

 

 


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